The Silver Cloak
by Estradas
Summary: Wilhe Aragorn risks his life to destroy the last of the guilds that once controlled the streets of Minas Tirith, the Silver Cloak guild, an exassassin is taken out of retirement to put an end to his life.
1. Prologue

_Prologue_

The chase was on! Through the maze-like, damp alleyways of Minas Tirith, a man ran like mad for his life, under the light of the moon. What he had done was unthinkable for most and now the price for doing it was about to be collected. Unless he could reach the city guards barracks!

He was aware of the small chance he had of doing so, after all he was being chased by the finest assassins and rogues of Gondor. Giving up, however, was not an option, he was aware of that, so he ran and he kept running as fast as he could, his muscles almost bursting with the inhuman effort, advancing through the city, not really sure if he was going on the right direction or just going in circles.

Sensing the pursuers closer by the minute, he ran into a large square and, at last! he saw his destination right on the other side of the square. For a second he stood there, speaking a prayer to Manwë, Lord of the Winds, and feeling the long lost hope crawling back to his heart again, for he was about to finish a task of extreme importance. That hesitation proved to be his doom, though, because when he was about to start his run again, an arrow pierced through his right leg, and the force of the impact brought him down to his knees.

He gasped in desperation and without thinking he started to run again, adrenaline pumping the last drops of energy into the spy's veins. But alas, he didn't get far, as another two arrows landed on his shoulder, the impact making him fall to the ground. He coughed up some blood and cried for help in frustration, but his voice faded into the night and he soon found himself surrounded by his pursuers.

Making a circle around him the men stood still, their silver cloaks flowing with the soft night's breeze, simply staring at him. Like a wild animal facing certain death the wounded spy tried to get up and defend himself, determined to sell his life at a high cost. But he could not. While he fought himself to stand up, one of the men broke the circle and walked slowly towards him, apparently smiling.

"Now now!" the cloaked man said with a cold, and high pitched voice. "Give me the honour of satisfying my curiosity… Did you seriously think you would escape? You were quite a chase. I must admit it was fun, to a certain point. But as all good things do, this game has reached the end."

The hunted man only barely managed to raise his head and look right in the face of the speaker, and although he could not see the face hidden under to silver hood, the man looked straight to where he supposed the eyes were, determined to accept death with dignity. But death didn't come to his rescue… instead he felt a blow to his head and all went black.

* * *

Somewhere in the White City a tall man stood still looking through a window, staring at the clear dawn sky, his blond hair glowing with the early sun. He had been there ever since he and his men got back from a quick jog they had, by chasing some stupid spy. The blond man chuckled. The idea of someone thinking they could escape him was quite sincerely amusing. In his mind there was a small amount of concern though. If this spy managed to get close to them, other might also make it. None would escape nevertheless, he thought to himself confidently, but he had to find if that brainless spy had leaked any information, and if so they had to do something about it. He dwelled his thoughts until he was brought back to reality when someone knocked at the door.

"Come in." He said calmly, as he turned to the door. The man who opened the door was also tall, but smaller than the blonde one and with a stronger constitution. He was bald, and the only trace of facial hair on his round face was a small goatee.

"He woke up." The bald man said, standing at the door. "Klaria wants you to question him, Sergo."

Sergo smiled softly. "Sure Gurdaw. I'll be right there." Torturing prisoners was always fun, specially the King's lackeys. Sergo didn't know why, but he had a special pleasure doing it. He thought it was the screams and cries of pain and despair the prisoners let go. It was almost orgasmic!

The other man, Gurdaw, watched Sergo for some moments, as his face light up with excitement and then nodded. "I'll be with Klaria. We'll be waiting for your news."

"Sure thing. It shouldn't take long… sadly." He said with a sadistic smirk on his face. Sergo stood on the same place for some moments after Gurdaw's departure and exited his room. He walked through the corridors of an old house with haste, making his way to the room where the spy was being questioned. When he got there, the spy was sitting in the middle of a room, his arms and legs tightly bound by strong rope. With him was a short man with a sickly, sadistic look, his clothes dirty with blood. He was standing beside a work table, covered with torturing instruments and some of them were in his hands. On the opposite side of the room there was a small fireplace with a small fire burning. Sergo stared at both of them from the door, with a pleased look. "Has he talked yet?"

"No, he's been acting strong so far." The sickly looking man answered, toying with a bloody small knife. "But he just woke up a while ago, he won't last much longer."

Sergon nodded. "I agree. I'll take the lead from now on. You can go."

"But… I…"

"Go! Klaria's orders!" Sergo growled with his high pitched voice, shaking the short man. He nodded quickly and after putting down his instruments he exited the room quickly. It would be insane to make Sergo angry at him, and he could not even begin to imagine what would happen to him if he disobeyed the Boss's orders.

Sergo waited for the other man to exit the room and walked to the work table, grabbing a long and really thin metal rod and made his way to the opposite side of the room, using the fire to heat up the metal rod. When the rod began to turn red he took it out of the fire and turned to the tied down spy.

"Well Sartur, seems like the time to crack you open has come. Oh, don't be afraid, it will be fun, I promise!" He finished the sentence with a sadistic, high pitch laughter that froze Sartur blood. Sergo walked to the gondorian spy and a second later a scream could be heard throughout the whole house… And it was a really big house.


	2. Chapter one – Spy Games

_Chapter one – Spy Games_

"I will not tolerate such behaviour in my city! I want them crushed!" King Aragorn II Elessar punched the table really hard, releasing his anger and frustration, as its sound startled everyone around it. He got up from his chair in the meeting room where matters of warfare were discussed and started to walk back and forth. He passed his hand through his hair and beard, thinking of what to do, as he looked at his generals seated at the table. Nine years had passed since Aragorn was proclaimed King of Gondor and Arnor. He had achieved many things so far, he had overcome many evils and he was now known as the king of the Reunited Kingdom of the Dúnedain.

But yet something that seemed so simple and so easy to achieve was still incomplete, and it was something that Aragorn despised above all things. He was outraged with the fact that his White City was not yet a model of peace and freedom as he wanted it to be. The gangs and thieves guilds that once had ran somewhat freely in the city were now almost completely erased. But Aragorn wanted more! He wanted them permanently eradicated, so that the city could live in peace and harmony.

They had assembled a plan some months ago to infiltrate the guild that controlled a great part of the underworld and have been giving him headaches since he had become king – the Silver Cloak guild! - and it had been successful for quite some time, the results were very satisfactory and according to plan, the final and definitive blow against the guild was just a couple of months away. They just needed more thorough information of the guilds movements and business and it would be end of those bastards. But unfortunately, as Aragorn thought, clenching his fists with fury, it all went sour when the spy they had infiltrated on the guild was caught… The poor man's body was found just that morning on the main square, with clear signs of torture and impressive sadism.

Aragorn took a deep breath, calming down a bit and moved again towards the table and put his hands on it, looking fiercely at his generals.

"My friends, any ideas on how will we solve these matters? It has become my main priority to "clean" the White City of those filthy beasts and it should be yours as well." He looked at his men as he thought of some sort of plan or strategy to apply to the case. The generals looked at each other, confused and puzzled, not knowing exactly what to do or what to say.

"Sire." Said one of the younger generals and as Aragorn nodded to him, he continued. "So far all our efforts have accomplished quite satisfactory results. But as we all witnessed this morning our foes are cunning. That brave man was a good person, and it was a damn good spy. He trained under my command when he joined the guards, and I know that if they caught him it's because their skills are beyond the average level. So, it is my opinion we must change the course of our actions, and act swiftly this time."

"Yes, I believe you are right. But how will we accomplish this?" Aragorn asked, wishing that someone in that room would come up with a good plan, because he, despite his best efforts, could not.

"I agree with you, Elaran." said an older Gondorian. "Sire, if you permit me, I think I have a good idea on how we should act now." Aragorn smiled, proud of his men. He nodded and gestured so that the general could continue.

"Speak, Herion. Tell us of your plan."

* * *

Aragorn laid back on his big chair, in front of his office desk. On top of the desk were various papers related to the governing of his kingdom. The draught of the past summer gave Aragorn many sleepless nights, as he and his advisors struggled to make up ways to keep his people fed with the resources of previous years. Luckily the winter was rainy and there were good perspectives on the following year. 

However, these matters seemed trivial in Aragorn's head. Lately all he could think of was the criminal life of Minas Tirith. How he despised the gangs that once walked unchecked through its streets. The time had come to finally put an end in those matters and start another chapter of the life in the White City. The time has come for him to…

"Come in." Aragorn ordered, as a knock on the door took him away from his thoughts. Instantly a guard open the door and bowed to his king and nervously said:

"I apologise to disturb you, your majesty, but…" But he was stopped by Aragorn, who added quickly:

"I did say not to be disturbed. What is the matter?"

"The Prince of Ithilien, Lord Faramir, Steward of Gondor as just arrived to the city, my lord. He crossed the main gate a few moments ago."

"So soon? Perfect…" Aragorn got up and walked around his desk and addressed the nervous guard again. "Inform Prince Faramir to meet me at the entrance of the gardens. I wish to speak to him alone. Also tell Eldiron to come to my office as quickly as possible. You may go now."

"As you wish, my lord." The guard said, as he bowed with and closed the door on his way out.

The king quickly sorted up the papers on his desk and soon there was another knock on the door. Aragorn ordered the person to enter and a middle-aged servant opened the door and bowed to him.

"You summoned me, my liege?"

"Yes, I did Eldiron." Aragorn said and walked up to his servant. "I want you to go to the meeting of the counsellors and tell them to act as we discussed last night, concerning the food supplies."

"Right away, sire. Do you wish anything else?"

Aragorn scratched his chin and took a few moments to answer. "I'll have you do another thing. I want you to go to the stables and prepare one of the spare horses there to leave soon. However, you will speak of this to no one, I want you to do this yourself, in secrecy."

"But your majesty, will you not have your own horse prepared?" Said Eldiron a bit surprised.

Aragorn shook his head and said firmly: "No! I want another horse prepared to leave. And use no military equipment. Have the horse saddled with some old equipment. Go now and make haste."

Eldiron looked even more surprised, but dared not to question the king's decision. "It is done, your majesty." He bowed and turned to leave the Aragorn's office, but he was stopped by the king.

"Remember Eldiron, I do not want you to tell this to anyone." Eldiron bowed yet again and walked away.

Aragorn looked around his office and decided that it was time to leave. He walked through the long corridors of the palace on his way to the gardens outside. Many guards were on the corridors, all of them bowed to the passing King. After some moments he reached the gardens and saw that Faramir was already there waiting for him, sitting on a bench.

"It is good to see you my friend!" Aragorn walked towards him, smiling. As soon as Faramir noticed Aragorn coming, he got up and bowed.

"I made haste as soon as you summoned me, my King!"

Aragorn laughed and put his right hand on Faramir's left shoulder. "Please Faramir, no formalities. I have enough of that on my own." Faramir smiled back at Aragorn and shook his head teasingly.

"I see that you haven't grown used to the formalities."

"No, my friend. I have not. I've had many names, but never had I so many used at the same time in such a short time. It's 'my liege this', 'your majesty that', 'my lord', 'sire'… and list goes on!" Aragorn laughed and pointed towards the garden. "Will you accompany me in a walk?"

Faramir nodded and they started to walk. The inner gardens of the palace were of a fair size and they were practically alone there, so they could talk privately.

"What of Éowyn?" Aragorn asked Faramir. "How is she?"

"Éowyn is well. She went to spend some weeks in Rohan with Éomer, her brother."

"Those are comforting news. I have not seen her for while now. Her brother as well, for that matter."

"And how is your Queen, Arwen?" added Faramir. Aragorn looked at the gardens with dreamy eyes before replying.

"She is doing very well." Aragorn stopped walking and faced Faramir with a smile on his face. "You know, I like being a King. For a long time I did not think it, but now that I've reached this point I feel I was made for this. But I will be honest with you, I would not last long without Arwen. She is the cornerstone of my kingdom and no matter what the history books will say in the future every deed I have done and will accomplish is all due to her support." Faramir laughed and patted his friend's shoulder.

"I am glad, my friend. Very glad indeed." They started walking again, but this time they walked in silence. They walked all around the gardens and after a while they were back to where they had started. Faramir sighed, knowing they could not avoid the subject that had brought him to the palace.

"Are you sure you want to go through with this? I am sure there are other ways, you should not put yourself at this kind of risk." Aragorn sighed and was about to reply when a patrol of guards passed by. They saluted the King and the Steward, who saluted back, and the guards continued on their path. The King waited until the guards were out of sight and finally said:

"I must do it. What kind of king am I, if I want things done but never move from my throne!" Faramir was about to reply, but Aragorn raised his hand and did not allow him. "No, it must be this way!" He turned away and started walking out of the garden. "Please, come with me."

"Where are we going?" Faramir asked, following his king out of the garden.

"You'll see… I have something I'd like you to see." Aragorn kept walking, as he led Faramir through the halls and corridors of the palace. At first Faramir did not know what Aragorn wanted, nor where he was leading him, but knowing the palace as he knew it he soon realised where they were going: up to one of the towers. When they got there, Aragorn opened the door of a room and entered, with Faramir right behind him.

The room was small and simple. It seemed like a storage room, but there was nothing stored in the room, nothing but a simple chair that was in front of the only window of the room. Aragorn moved to the window and opened it, signalling Faramir to look through it. The steward did so and was amazed with what he saw.

"I found this room when I got lost in the palace, some months after I was crowned King." Aragorn started "It was a simple storage room. Seemed to have little use, for it was almost empty. The window was open, however, and I entered to close it and I saw for the first time what you are seeing now." Faramir looked at his friend, unsure what to say or what Aragorn meant with all this.

"There are many balconies in this palace, many places that are higher than this storage room, where your eyes can reach farther away. But none gives you this view of the White City… My city…" They both stared at the city in silence, admiring the sublime sight the window allowed them to have. After a while Aragorn continued:

"I have asked myself if this is purely a coincidence or it was a secret of whoever designed the palace. But after that night, I have ordered that it should be cleaned and a chair should be put here, and I came here repeatedly, when time allowed me, and spent endless time doing nothing but staring at the city." With an effort, Faramir removed his gaze from the view and turned to his friend.

"I had no knowledge of such a room. And no knowledge of such a view…"

"Do you understand now why I must do this? I cannot leave such a task to anyone else's hands…"

"Then let me do it! I'll go! Surely you trust my skills…" Faramir quickly added, but Aragorn strongly shook his head.

"I am sorry my friend, this task is meant for me and me alone. I do trust your skills, which is why I have asked you to take care of the affairs of the kingdom while I'm away." Faramir tried to argue, but Aragorn put his hand on his friend's shoulder and said:

"I do not force you to do it. I'm not asking this as a king, and I don't want you to answer me as a prince. I am asking you this as a friend, as a brother."

Faramir shook his head and sighed. He leaned over on the window and looked to the city again, the wind blowing on his face. "I do not know how, but somehow you managed to convince me…" He then turned to face Aragorn again. "When do you leave?"

"I will leave tonight, right after dinner, and spend a month on the wild. Officially I will leave to go to the Shire tomorrow, but only a few know the truth. No, don't worry," Aragorn added, in response to Faramir's surprised look. "no one will suspect anything, I have arranged everything and according to plan, to the eyes of everyone I will leave tomorrow, heading for the Shire." Faramir nodded, but he was suddenly struck by another thought.

"But what of Arwen? I am sure she does not support this decision?" Aragorn was about to reply, but someone else answered in his stead.

"No, Arwen does not support the decision." The two men were startled and turned around to face the Queen. She was standing at the door, smiling at both. "So the two boys came hiding in Aragorn's little smoking room?" Aragorn walked over to her and hold her hands.

"We did not hear you coming, my love. I was just telling Faramir of my plans."

"So I see. Tell me Faramir, did he give you the speech about the city view from this window?" Faramir laughed and nodded.

"Yes, he did, my Queen." Arwen laughed and walked over to Faramir, holding his arms.

"Nonsense, Faramir. You are among friends, no formalities needed." She turned to Aragorn. "I shall leave you two alone now. I am sure you wish to brief Faramir on all the details." Aragorn nodded in confirmation, and the Queen faced Faramir again. "We will have time to talk, Faramir, but it was good to see you again."

"The pleasure was mine." Said Faramir, as Arwen made her way to the door and out of the room. Aragorn faced Faramir and pointed towards the door.

"Will you accompany me to my office, we have much yet to discuss."

"Yes, sure."

* * *

The stables were really quiet and silent, and there was nobody else there other than Aragorn. As he had asked, a horse was readied for him. It was not a great horse, it seemed, but it would suffice for the task at hand. The saddle too, was nothing special, it was worn out and clearly had been in storage for some time. 

He kneeled and checked his bag one last time, making sure he had all he needed. Everything seemed to be in order, some rations, a set of short knives, and a sharpening stone. The rest he would gather from the nature, as he had done so many times before, on passed years. He got up and started to tie the bag to one of sides of the saddle.

But unexpectedly he felt a presence behind him and a pair of arms surrounded his torso, as he felt a familiar scent next to his face.

"Were you running away without saying goodbye, my love?" Arwen whispered to his ear. Aragorn put the bag back on the ground and turned around to face Arwen.

"I would not dare, my Queen." He told her, grabbing her hands and kissing them. He smiled and caressed her cheek with his hand. "I was merely preparing my things. I was going to you afterwards."

Arwen smiled and kissed the palm of his hand, caressing his face as well. "I know, I know."

Aragorn pushed Arwen even closer to him and placed a warm kiss on her lips. It was a sad kiss, for his departure caused him a bit of sadness. For long he had left Arwen alone with her worries, while he risked his life, venturing himself in countless dangers, longing to be in her arms at the same time. Now, at a time when he had thought that he could be with his love, he had to leave again, without knowing when he would return. Even worse, it was his choice!

"I can tell we are both sad over this, my love. Are you regretting your choice already?" Aragorn sighed in response to Arwen's question and rested his forehead on hers.

"Yes, I'm afraid I am, to a certain point." He fell silent for some moments as he passed his hands through her black hair. Aragorn then faced her and looked closely at her face. "It hurts me so to leave you alone with your worries. I have done it in the past and it's hard to do it again."

"And like in the past I've carried through. It pains me to see you leave, specially knowing where you're heading. But I know it must be done, and I could not bare to see you with even greater pain if this task had been assign to others."

Aragorn leaned his forehead against hers and sighed again. He said nothing, because he knew he had no words to describe the turmoil of feelings than reeked havoc inside him. Instead he just smiled, and caressed her soft hair, asking himself once again why had Arwen chosen him. He knew not why she had, but he was extremely happy she did it!

"I have to go now, my love…" He said, sadly, after some moments when words were not needed for them to share their feelings. "I wanted to see you first, but since you came here, I have no real reason to postpone my departure."

Arwen nodded and gave Aragorn a tender kiss. "I agree, my dear. Please, for goodness sake, be careful and come back in one piece. Oh, and this…" She paused and gave him a long and passionate kiss. "…is for you to remember when you're out there on the wild!"

Aragorn laughed, happy with his gift, and hugged her tightly feeling her scent for the last time in what could be a long time. "I love you!" He whispered in her ear. "So much…"

"I love you too, my heart."

The two stared at each other for a while, until Aragorn mounted his horse, making his way to the stable doors. When he reached them he turned around to face Arwen one last time. "Goodbye my love. Wish me luck." A tear streamed unnoticed down his face as he waved at Arwen. She did not see that tear, but Aragorn didn't also see the tear that streamed down the elf's face, as she waved back, wishing him luck.

With the hood of his cloak covering his head, the king rode slowly in the night, through the empty streets of Minas Tirith. He was going out for the wild for some weeks. He had to loose his _kingly_ look if he was to be able to fulfil his task properly. Time passed by quickly, with Aragorn lost in his thoughts and he soon found himself in front of the main city gates. He stopped and looked back at the city, thinking of how he already missed Arwen's touch… He shook his head, knowing he had to forget of all that now and turned to the gates, exiting the city towards the wild.


	3. Chapter two – Old friends, old memories

_Chapter two – Old friends, old memories_

Thoron moved swiftly in the shadows of a black alley, in a small town, lost somewhere in Middle Earth. He had nothing to fear or nothing to hide from, but old habits are hard to die and some of them were quite nasty habits. He took the hood of his cloak off, uncovering his head, with his pitch black hair cascading over his shoulders. He entered a pub, the pub he went to night after night, ever since he settled there, a couple of years after he left the Silver Cloak guild. Fifteen years had passed since… since… Thoron shook his head, as if it would make those thoughts go away, as if it would make the pain go away, wondering why he had remembered that now, after so much time

He made his way deeper into the sleazy place. Everywhere he could see drunken men sleeping on tables, drunken men playing cards, drunks taunting each other, drunks falling to the ground, their red cheeks signalling a long night of alcohol. That's why he liked that place; everyone was so drunk that no one really noticed him. He could have his drink in peace. Or at least it was what he called that. No one from his past came there to bother him and that was enough for him. Again he shook his head. Why was he thinking so much about the past?

He sat at the counter and soon after the waitress came to him. He looked at her and examined her once again, as he always did. She had long, blond hair, caught in a pony-tail. Her face was round, and her cheeks were of a pale pink that contrasted with her soft, white skin. Her smile was so honest and so soothing to Thoron that he always wanted to see it. She looked out of place there, in a place full of bums and worthless drunks, but she owned the place and although she was rather skinny, everyone respected her and she ran that place with an iron fist that always had impressed Thoron.

"I was beginning to think you would never come. You have become part of the furniture here, a night without you seems somewhat hollow." The waitress teased, as she cleaned the bit of the counter in front of Thoron.

"How would I miss a chance to see that smile of yours again?" replied Thoron jokingly, gazing at her with his brown eyes.

"A charmer, as always! Will it be the usual?" The waitress didn't wait for an answer and instead took a bottle from behind the counter and poured some wine to a glass. As she gave the glass to Thoron, she continued. "You know, I still hope to see you finally settle down, get married."

Thoron smiled, as he lifted the glass and looked at the wine in it, taking a sip of it before answering. He closed his eyes and tasted the fine wine and as the liquid streamed down it gave him a feeling of freshness. That bottle was there only for him, only he drank that wine in the pub, it was a way for the waitress to thank him for some services he did some years back, when he had to get the pub rid of some annoying "guests".

"Have I said something wrong? You smiled, but I could tell it had sadness hidden behind it…"

Thoron looked calmly to her friend. It was amazing how she knew him so well, but instead of telling her what troubled him, he decide to play it cool.

"Nah… It most certainly isn't your fault." He smiled and shrugged his shoulder. "It seems my thoughts always drifting away today. But… you know me far too well, dear friend. Settling down is not for me." He paused for a brief moment and continued with a glow of mischief in his eyes. "Besides, I'm still waiting for you to change your mind about us!"

Rìn started laughing, the thought of she and Thoron together was so amusing she was always laughed very hard when he mentioned it. "Keep your horses out on the rain, and they will catch a cold! You don't…" She stopped suddenly and the laughing face was quickly replaced by a blank look, emotionless. Thoron frowned, knowing that look very well, and followed it.

Two large figures stood still at the pub door. They were both very tall and very muscular, wearing weather-beaten cloaks –that appeared to have been black a long time ago. The one on the right had long, raven-black hair and a beard of the same colour. On his left eye he had a big diagonal scar, partially covered by an eye-patch. The other man, the one on the left, was slightly smaller than his companion. He was much older than first one, but in no way did he seem weaker than the first one, in fact he looked like a mountain of muscles. He had greyish hair, with lock of golden hair falling to the left side of his head, and had no facial hair, but had instead, various scars, some small others bigger, although none was as big as the scar on the one-eyed man's face.

They searched the place with their eyes, until they focused their look on the counter. A pair of brown eyes was focused on them, and they smiled as they had found were they were looking for. As the beast-like men slowly and calmly walked towards Thoron, he turned to the counter again and drank the wine that was still in his glass, and at the same time he moved his hand to his belt, feeling better knowing his dagger was with him.

"These are bad news… Be careful…" whispered Rìn as she kept looking to the two advancing goons. The two large men sat at the counter, one on each side of Thoron. As they sat down, they were fiercely staring at Rìn and she stared back, her face showing little emotion.

"Don't you have something to clean, cutie?" asked the man with the eye patch, as he mischievously smiled at Rìn. Her face was still blank, but Thoron knew better as he saw the fury building up in her eyes and prayed to all the Valar that she would keep her temper and mind her own business. As what seemed to Thoron to be an eternity passed, the prayer seemed to have reached Valinor, because when Thoron thought she was losing it, Rìn simply smiled and asked if they wanted anything to drink.

"Two mugs of ale, please." Said the older goon with an oddly soft voice. Then there was silence. Thoron said nothing and neither did the two goons as Rìn quietly served the drinks the men had asked for. As soon as the mugs were placed in front of the two bullies, the harsh voice of the eye-patched man sounded again.

"Now beat it, we want privacy!" He patted Thoron's shoulder and laughed a bit. "We have some business to attend with our friend here."

"As you wish…" the sounds barely came out of her mouth, the fury in her face now more than evident to the untrained eye. As she walked away, she looked at Thoron, this time with concern in her eyes.

"That girl is fire! I bet she's tasty." said the man with the eye-patch with a snicker.

"Watch your tongue, Aldhèn!" Thoron said furiously as he faced the man at his left. "You might get burned." He added, this time more calmly, but still firmly. A wide grin appeared on Aldhèn's face as Thoron threatened him.

"Oh, you like her, heh? You always had a good a taste with women. I am eager to get my hands on her and taste those pretty lips." Aldhèn looked at Rìn again, licking his own lips as if he hadn't eaten for years and was contemplating a fine, warm meal.

"You were warned... You don't want to lose the eye you have left, do you?" Thoron said as he looked straight at Aldhèn's face. "I took one from you once, I can easily do it again!" There was no trace of a starving smile on Aldhèn's face now, only sheer rage. He ground his teeth as he moved his face closer to Thoron's and with a furious voice he said:

"Why don't you give it your best shot, little man?" Without even thinking, Thoron reached for his dagger and with lightning reflexes aimed it at the man's throat. But his arm suddenly stopped, a few inches away from giving Aldhèn a wide grin on his throat. The older man's hand was holding Thoron's arm with impressive strength, not looking at the two furious men sitting next to him, but concentrating on his mug.

"Sit tight and cut it out, Aldhèn!" The man said with a commanding voice and the other man hesitated but chose to obey, still piercing Thoron with his good eye. The older man now turned to Thoron, who was still furiously looking at the one-eyed man and still had his arm tightly held, and continued. "And you, sheathe that dagger! We came to talk, not to fight." Thoron slowly put his dagger back on his belt as his arm was released and took several deep breathes, as if the oxygen had the power to cool him off.

After some moments, and now calmer, he turned around and faced the older man. "Toman… it's good to see you old friend. I regret to say the quality of the people you walk with has diminished. You had better company in the old days." Thoron said, giving Aldhèn a quick look. "But something tells me all the trouble you had in finding me was not simply to catch up on the past. Am I right?"

Toman laughed, patting Thoron's shoulder, and drank the ale from the mug he was holding. "Those were definitely the golden days, weren't they? There will never be a team as good as the two of us…" he suddenly stopped and dropped the smiling face, now looking seriously to his old friend. "But things change, and yes, you are right. I have come here to take care of business, not to chat about old times." He paused and took another sip of his ale and stared for some moments before continuing. "You have done a great job ate covering up your trace… You've walked far, and we went to great lengths to find you…"

"Yeah… I always knew it was folly of my part to assume no one would find me here and that I'd be left alone. I'm surprise, to be honest, that you haven't come after me sooner… Tell me what business brought you so far, so you can depart as soon as possible!"

The big man hesitated for a moment. It was strange to see his friend again in those circumstances. But alas, he had is order and the sooner he completed his task, the better it would be. "What I have to say, you won't like to hear, but… you are to come with us. The boss has a job for you."

Thoron shook his head in disbelief. "I don't believe you've came all the way here to tell me that! You know very well, and so does she, that I no longer work for her. My time is over and I retired from that life, and you know why I did it." He got up from his chair and turned to the door, prepared to leave.

"The boss doesn't take "no" for an answer. You know that well, _too_ well I would say. Besides, the only way out is death, and you seem pretty alive to me!"

"Humpf" was the only sound that came from Thoron's mouth as he walked towards the pub door. Toman got up, deciding to go after him, and as Aldhèn got up as well Toman stopped him.

"You sit there and don't move. I'll handle this myself!" he said in his commanding voice. Aldhèn stopped and looked furiously at Toman, but knowing better than go against his demands, he sat, ground his teeth again and looked savagely at the door that Thoron was passing through. Toman walked after Thoron and added to his mate: "And don't you dare to touch that girl."

Toman exited the pub and looked around. He found his old friend walking back and forth, shaking his head in anger and outrage, and stood there quietly watching.

"Cow! Who in Eru's name does she think she is?" Thoron was desperate. It was as if the nightmare was happening all over again. The pain, the suffering, the fear of falling asleep, knowing that the weak chains of sanity would be loose and the demons walked freely on his head… NO! This time he wouldn't let that foul women control his actions and his life. All that he tried to put behind, the friends, the enemies… the memories, it all came back in full force to haunt him.

He stopped his senseless pacing and faced Toman. He too was remembering the past. He shook his head as he realised that once again he had to return and tell The Boss that Thoron wasn't going to act according to the plan. "Don't make the same mistakes of the past." He advised his friend. "Be smart, think!"

"I am thinking. I am thinking that if that selfish cow doesn't want to hear my "no" from you, take me to her and I'll tell her right to her face. A BIG AND ROUND NO!" Thoron turned his back to the old warrior and walked into the shadows. "It was good to see you, old friend…" he added as he blended into the city's darkness.

Toman found himself all alone in the desert street. He shook his head in disbelief. _"Stubborn fool." _he thought, as he walked into the pub again


End file.
